Dangerous Dreams
by Corona-Light
Summary: Sixteen decides to pay Desmond a little visit.


Nothing. No sound, no color, white and mute. Surrounded by white, no noise, not even the sound of his breathing, fell on his ears. He opened his mouth and tried to scream, but it felt as if cotton was lodged in his throat. He tried to move, but invisible binds kept him rooted to where he stood. Panic rose in his chest, vile and bitter on the back of his tongue, and his breathing hastened.

Where was he? He was used to blank white, but this was something else. This wasn't the artificial sleep he was put into, even then there was color, vivid color, vivid pain, sounds, sights, smells, tastes. This was muffled. An empty dream. He tried to move again, and a small, mechanical voice chirped at him.

"D-D-D-Don't fight it, D-D-Desmond. N-N-No use."

He could turn to see where the voice was coming from, but he knew it. He would recognize it anywhere. Hazel eyes flickered everywhere, and there, just out of the corner of his eye, was a small mousy man, light brown hair tousled and wild, yellow, hawk like eyes staring up at him with a look of calm he never though the man could experience. A shaky smile tipped scarred lips.

"Don't w-w-worry, Desmond-d-d. You'll m-move soon enough," his image flickered, like a picture on a shoddy television screen, bits of his body branching away in pixilated chunks, hovering away from him, before melding back together. Desmond parted his lips, and this time, he heard the gasp that broke from him, heard his breathing, and could finally turn his head to stare at the smaller man. He trembled, looking around panickedly, shaking his head.

"Where am I...? This isn't the Animus..."

"A d-dream, if you'd l-l-l-like to call it th-that," the other man waved detached a hand. "It c-could be an Animus, if y-y-y-you wanted. Y-y-y-you can go anywh-wh-where in your dreams, c-can't you?"

Desmond wavered, eyelids fluttering shut. Where would he go? Where would he want to go? He sucked in a slow breath through slightly parted lips, images flashing behind his eyes. Gray skies, heavy clouds, orange sunsets, towering church spires, eagles circling diving swooping. It all came in a wild flurry, till he settled on one singular image. A wooden mesh gate that lay hidden by wall creepers, the plants drooping down over the square entrance. A sharp and angular insignia under his feet, a thin layer of sand covering the faded red brick that made the shape in an elegant and elaborate circle. He knew where he was, he had frequented it often. He opened his eyes.

Jerusalem, standing at the entrance of the biting Rafiq's bureau, sneakers scuffing the sand, showing off the brotherhood symbol, proud but faint on the ground beneath him. The other man nodded.

"F-Fitting. Rather c-c-calm place, w-w-wouldn't you s-s-s-say?" he looked to Desmond.

"What's going on Sixteen? Why are you here? What's happened?" his voice was tinted with desperation and confusion, stepping closer to the small man, hands open and out at his sides. Sixteen regarded him calmly, something that threw Desmond off, and shrugged lightly.

"Wh-wh-why wouldn't-t I b-b-be here? I c-can go anywhere now."

"I-I know! But...why are you here, _now_? The Vault, Minerva, everythi-" he choked, clenching his eyes shut, forcing the bile that rose in his throat down, unable to breathe, regret and anger welling up inside his chest, making his voice thick.

"_Why are you here? _What do you want of me?" he growled, taking another step towards Sixteen, who held his tiny hands up in defense. He spoke quietly.

"M-M-Minerva ssssent me. S-sh-she wanted me to tell y-y-you it was n-n-needed, Dess-s-smond."

He started to heave, chest rising and falling rapidly, before he let out a wail of anguish and leapt at Sixteen, pinning him to the wall, fisting the light blue shirt he wore, slamming his scrawny shoulders into the wall.

"IT WASN'T NEEDED! I DIDN'T HAVE TO! SHE NEVER DID ANYTHING WRONG!"

"It-t-t-t was needed! M-Minerva ssssaid it was!" finally, that little shimmer of fear reappeared in Sixteen's eyes, bony hands gripping at Desmond's own callused ones. The taller, stronger man shook his head, tears that slipped from his flaring eyes peaking at his jaw.

"THAT _BITCH _IS WRONG! Lucy was the only thing that kept me sane, that kept me going! AND SHE'S GONE! BECAUSE OF THAT BITCH MINERVA!"

"I said that same thing!" Sixteen screeched, like a radio on a broken frequency, high and scratchy, making Desmond wince and duck his head. "M-MINERVA WANTED M-M-ME TO D-D-DO THE SSSSSAME THING! I couldn't, I couldn't, I l-l-loved Lucy, I l-loved her! I never w-w-wanted to, but M-M-Minerva says it m-m-must be done! N-N-NO DISTRACTIONS!"

"Lucy wasn't a distraction!" Desmond bellowed, pulling Sixteen back and slamming his shoulders into the wall again, his head cracking on the stone. Sixteen's head lolled as Desmond shouted at him. "Lucy was helping our cause! Lucy was leading us, kept us all together and helped us along! She wasn't a distraction! She was a pillar, supporting us!"

"M-Minerva thought d-d-diffffferently," Sixteen shuddered, body breaking again, pixels shattered, before zipping back together. "Sh-sh-sh-sheeee saw how you l-l-l-looked at L-L-Lucy...sh-sh-she knnnnew she would b-b-be a hindrance to you."

"How did I look at Lucy, then?" Desmond snarled, teeth bore, knuckles blanching white with how tightly he gripped at Sixteen's arms. The man shook his head, eyes wide and fearful, brows furrowed piteously. "Since you and Minerva seem to be very close acquaintances."

"You love her."

Desmond never thought that such simple words would have such a huge impact on him. His grip slackened, chest aching as if someone fired a double-barreled shotgun straight into his heart. He let Sixteen go, slumping away from him, covering his face with his hands. He took heavy breaths, the motions carrying undertones of sobs, teeth grit, before letting out a low, wounded, broken cry. Sixteen spoke quietly behind him, voice clear and human, free of any stutters.

"She saved you from Abstergo. She helped you with the Effect. A brave leader, a loving but stern woman. Anyone would love her for that. But Minerva knew that if you both acknowledged these feelings, nothing else would matter to you. It had to be done; no distractions."

Desmond lifted his head, looking down at his hands, a breath catching roughly in his throat.

Blood painted his hands crimson, pooling in the creases of his palms, dripping off his fingertips, collecting under his nails and sliding down his wrists. A small scream escaped him, breaking and building into a howl. Sixteen continued behind him.

"Minerva did what she thought was right, so you could do what _is _right. She believed she was helping you, Desmond. She had good intentions."

Desmond shook his head, breathing hastily out from clenched teeth.

"She didn't help me! How is this helping me!" his voice broke. Sixteen shook his head.

"I c-c-can't ssssstay here anymore, De-De-Desmond," the electrical stutter returned, Sixteen's body fading and jumping. Desmond whirled, watching before lurching for Sixteen, trying to grab him. His arms went through his stomach, and he ended up hugging himself. He looked up wildly at Sixteen, who smiled solemnly.

"I hhhh-have to go now...I'll t-t-tell Lucy you sssssaid hello..."

"No! Sixteen, you asshole, _COME BACK!_" Desmond cried out, trying to grab Sixteen again, who sighed and shook his head, before blinking out from the roof, leaving Desmond alone.

OoOoOoOoOoOo  
><strong>thanks for viewing. tell me what you think?<strong>


End file.
